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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28870089">Nonsense stanzas</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shimyereh/pseuds/Shimyereh'>Shimyereh</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Original Work</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Gen, Poetry</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-05-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 06:34:44</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>40</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,478</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28870089</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shimyereh/pseuds/Shimyereh</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Assorted spontaneous brain noise, often composed around a really silly rhyme. Mostly ottava rima. I’ve accumulated enough of these, I figured I might as well start collecting them here.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>12</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. "Behold! A most magnificent creation..."</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Behold! A most magnificent creation:<br/>     A sinuous and spotted line of ooze<br/>That briefly met my passing observation,<br/>     Emerging from the pavement near my shoes,<br/>Then back through cracks to some dark destination.<br/>     It made me sad to think the world might lose<br/>Such rare and stunning charms — yes, all shall know ‘em!<br/>I snapped some pics, and then I wrote this poem.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>7/30/19. Written in response to seeing a slug in a crack in the pavement, while on a walk.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. "The moon shines brightly by my bed tonight..."</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The moon shines brightly by my bed tonight,<br/>     So brightly that there’s almost the illusion<br/>Of frost upon the ground. (The floor gleams white,<br/>     You see, and that’s the cause of my confusion.)<br/>And yet, in spite of this, a poet might<br/>     Derive profundity from this delusion:<br/>In brilliant, chilly skies I briefly find<br/>A sorrow for the home I’ve left behind.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>10/6/19. A (very loose) translation of Li Bai's "Quiet night thoughts" (《静夜思》).</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. "How nice to have a garden on one’s desk!..."</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>How nice to have a garden on one’s desk!<br/>     Green leafiness is something I was low on.<br/>Its presence makes my space more picturesque<br/>     And makes up for the walks that I don’t go on.<br/>So long as I take care of all that pesk-<br/>     -Y maintenance like watering, and so on,<br/>I’ll daydream in this private little glade<br/>And lose myself among the dappled shade.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>6/20/20. Written in response to receiving a basket garden as a gift.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. "The signpost warned of dangers up ahead..."</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The signpost warned of dangers up ahead<br/>     In language that was cold, concise, and cryptic;<br/>Its words evoked a special sort of dread —<br/>     Not quite what one might call apocalyptic,<br/>More vague unease at what’s been left unsaid.<br/>     Now picture (if you will) a sort of diptych:<br/>One side, a single painted word: “beware”;<br/>The other, open fields with nothing there.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>8/24/20. Adapted from a dream.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. "Some gamblers like to use a spritz of Windex..."</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Some gamblers like to use a spritz of Windex<br/>     To polish up their cards — but just a trace;<br/>While others are inclined to idly index<br/>     The span of fan in hand from two to ace;<br/>Still others stash cards separately in thin decks<br/>     Because the box was just a waste of space…<br/>Confession: I know nothing much of gambling —<br/>I found a stupid rhyme, and started rambling.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>9/27/20.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. "Claws clinging to the curtain just above..."</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Claws clinging to the curtain just above<br/>     His little unlocked cage, the meek chinchilla<br/>     Now found himself between the perils of<br/>     Charybdis and the slavering maw of Scylla;<br/>     Of hope he hadn’t got the least scintilla.<br/>     Ignominy of capture in this state<br/>     Did not appeal, but nor did falling. Still, a<br/>     Brief thrill was worth a spill, he’d learned of late.<br/>And he could not deny: the view, at least, was great.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>11/1/20. Spenserian stanza.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. "Some Research happened, but I can’t explain..."</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Some Research happened, but I can’t explain<br/>     The gist of it just yet — I’ve tabs a-plenty<br/>Still open in my browser and my brain<br/>     (I counted: there’s about a hundred twenty);<br/>I’ll let this simmer, see what I retain.<br/>     My insights — *stirs the pot* — aren’t quite <em>al dente</em>.<br/>I’ve nothing real coherent yet to say,<br/>Except that: <em>wow</em>, I read a <em>lot</em> today.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>12/25/20.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. "My cousin, the eternal renegado..."</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>My cousin, the eternal renegado,<br/>     Set out to juggle — what? you’ll <em>never</em> guess:<br/>A chainsaw, and a giant avocado,<br/>     And twenty-two tomatoes (more or less),<br/>A pepper-mill, a lemon… The poor sod — oh,<br/>     ‘Twas great bravado, but an <em>awful</em> mess.<br/>The outcome was decidedly unholy;<br/>There’s better ways to make a Guacamole.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>12/29/20. When I shared this on my Facebook, I replaced "cousin" with "nephew", because I am FB friends with several of my cousins. (Pretending I have a *nephew* who is old enough to juggle *chainsaws* makes me feel old, but oh well.)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. "The music said staccato, then legato..."</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The music said staccato, then legato,<br/>     With plenty of rubato here and there.<br/>(Whoever wrote it — plainly they did not owe<br/>     Allegiance to one tempo.) I declare<br/>The metronome a hindrance. There’s a motto!<br/>     To be applied as broadly as you dare:<br/>No matter how specific the notation,<br/>There’s always room for <em>some</em> interpretation.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>1/2/21.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. "Sometimes you come across some great monstrosity..."</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Sometimes you come across some great monstrosity<br/>     Of sound, semantics — novelty or niche —<br/>Unlooked-for answer to a verbal paucity<br/>     You’d never even thought to question. “Sheesh,<br/>So there’s a word for <em>that?</em>” At high velocity<br/>     Ideas rush onward, straining at the leash.<br/>(I’m itching — <em>itching!</em> — for a situation<br/>To use <a href="https://en.wiktionary.org/wiki/pandiculate#English">“pandiculate”</a> in conversation.)</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>1/10/21. A+ choice of illustration (self-portrait by Joseph Ducreux, c. 1783) in that Wiktionary entry.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. "But now at thirty years my hair is grey..."</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“But now at thirty years my hair is grey…”*<br/>     (Or thirty-one; same diff.) It’s getting clearer<br/>That there’s more silver coming in each day —<br/>     I notice it when looking in the mirror,<br/>And feel… well, no aesthetic angst, per se;<br/>     Just time-awareness. Strange, how this past year or<br/>So, <em>this</em> of all things shows acceleration.<br/>I thought there’d be more time to each gra(y)dation.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>1/19/21. *[see: Byron, <i>Don Juan</i>, 1/CCXIII]</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. "The pirate crew were looking most intrepid..."</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The pirate crew were looking most intrepid<br/>     (In full-on pirate garb, and not tuxedos).<br/>Their ship, a gallant vessel though decrepit,<br/>     Withstood tides, tempests, turbulence, torpedoes —<br/>What Espronceda once termed <em>el estrépit-<br/>     -O y temblor de cables sacudidos</em>*<br/>Was background noise: expected in the first place,<br/>Or merely minor nuisance in the worst case.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>1/19/21. *[<i>the din and tremor of the shaken cables</i>; see: Espronceda, “Canción del pirata” (The pirate’s song, 1835)]</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. "Among the scrub-brush, and the swaying sage..."</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Among the scrub-brush, and the swaying sage,<br/>     The solitary, scattered tufts of sedge,<br/>The tumbleweeds of indeterminate age<br/>     That idly drift along the desert’s edge,<br/>Two colonies of ants minutely wage<br/>     A war of sorts — watch this one fellow wedge<br/>His way through crowds: “Our anthill’s under siege!”<br/>(A solemn bow.) “What is your will, my liege?”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>1/20/21. I noticed that "sage" / "sedge" / "siege" are the same but for the vowel, and I wanted to play with that. Bonus points for pairing doubles that share a starting consonant (or lack thereof): "sage" ~ "sedge", "age" ~ "edge", "wage" ~ "wedge".</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. "There’s little in the future that’s a certainty..."</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>There’s little in the future that’s a certainty;<br/>     Behold the great appeal of divination!<br/>Some people think the Fates tend to assert in tea<br/>     A hint or two, some cryptic indication<br/>Of what’s to come. But tea leaves aren’t as certain t’ye<br/>     As other methods of investigation.<br/>The only thing those leaf dregs say to *me*,<br/>Is that I need another cup of tea.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>1/21/21. Fun with holorimes!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0015"><h2>15. "A funny little puzzle, the ottava..."</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>A funny little puzzle, the <em>ottava</em>.<br/>     It’s like some little voice says: “hold my beer!<br/>I’ll find a rhyme for <em>that!”</em> and I improv a<br/>     Small ditty with whatever strikes my ear.<br/>I’ve written code in Python and in Java<br/>     Not half so satisfying as this here,<br/>In terms of inner logic, convolutions<br/>That twist and turn their way to strange solutions.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>1/21/21.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0016"><h2>16. "A thing observed is changed by observation..."</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>A thing observed is changed by observation.<br/>     This axiom is more or less old hat,<br/>I think — but see, its practiced application<br/>     Goes far beyond Schrödinger’s (un)dead cat.<br/>It pops up, too, in personal narration —<br/>     Each timeworn memory proves so fragile that<br/>A recollection’s bound to rearrange it;<br/>To tell a story always means to change it.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>1/21/21.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0017"><h2>17. "It’s almost dawn. Pale moonbeams cast a sparkle..."</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It’s almost dawn. Pale moonbeams cast a sparkle<br/>     Of frosted filigree upon the glass,<br/>The looming pines and distant mountains <a href="https://en.wiktionary.org/wiki/darkle#English">darkle</a><br/>     (Now <em>there’s</em> a word!). The night will swiftly pass<br/>To soft gray almost-morning, and the lark’ll<br/>     Sing out across the span of silvered grass<br/>And gleaming rooftops — day must come, and will,<br/>But for a precious moment, time stands still.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>1/23/21. "Darkle" is a goofy word, but such a good rhyme for "sparkle".</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0018"><h2>18. "I passed a potter’s shop the other day..."</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I passed a potter’s shop the other day,<br/>     And paused to watch the master at his wheel —<br/>And couldn’t help but note, to my dismay,<br/>     What time and transformation don’t conceal.<br/>Stop, potter! can’t you see what’s in the clay<br/>     You’re shaping? There’s a hand, and that’s a heel,<br/>And there’s a head — Fereydun, Kaikhosrau,<br/>And others, named and nameless — wine jugs now.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>1/24/21. Loose adaptation of some stanzas from the <i>Rubaiyat</i>.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0019"><h2>19. "Oh, English. What is up with your plurality?..."</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Oh, <em>English</em>. What is up with your plurality?<br/>     The plural form of “mouse” is “mice”; “louse”, “lice”.<br/>So: by a simple chain of logicality,<br/>     A pair of “house” should therefore be two “hice”.<br/>But no! we’re forced to face the sad reality<br/>     Of “houses”, which is somewhat less concise —<br/>Though more straightforward, sure. I guess a house is<br/>A thing that’s best kept clear of louses, mouses.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>1/25/21.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0020"><h2>20. "Collecting dragon scales and morning dew..."</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Collecting dragon scales and morning dew,<br/>     The sorceress pondered how to find an heir<br/>To carry on her craft. The time was due,<br/>     Long overdue — but, oh, one mustn’t err<br/>In matters of such grave import… “Hey, d’you<br/>     Mind?” she exclaimed into the empty air,<br/>“That <em>really</em> isn’t helping.” The narrator<br/>At this point ceased all efforts to narrate her.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>1/27/21.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0021"><h2>21. "With you, it’s all hyperbole and metaphor!..."</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“With you, it’s all hyperbole and metaphor!<br/>     Speak plainly — tell me what you <em>really</em> saw.”<br/>“I did, I did! You mean you’ve never met a four-<br/>     -Winged crow with flaming —” “That’s the final straw!<br/>I’ve had enough of your confounded meta for<br/>     A lifetime.” Then a cavern-shaking <em>CAW</em><br/>That challenged all comparison was heard.<br/>“On second thought, I’ll take you at your word.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>1/30/21.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0022"><h2>22. "You’d quit these projects if you had a modicum..."</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“You’d quit these projects if you had a modicum<br/>     Of sense — your last outgunned, outpunned, and stunned you!”<br/>“I’ve learned my lesson, changed my craft — you oughta come<br/>     See what I’ve grown. This squeamishness is undue.”<br/>“I’m sick of plants and all of your exotic, um,<em><br/>     Creations</em>…” “Oh, come on, it’s just a sundew!”<br/>A light flicks on. A stricken gasp. “Wait, where is<br/>My thirty-foot <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Drosera_linearis"><em>Drosera linearis</em></a>???”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>2/2/21. Apparently 30 ft. is ~90x the height of an actual <i>Drosera linearis</i>.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0023"><h2>23. "The egg was but a decoy, foolish mortal!..."</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Koschei">The egg was but a decoy, foolish mortal!</a><br/>     Who’d be so careless as to stash their soul<br/>So tangibly, so breakably? (A chortle<br/>     Of evil glee.) I see that on the whole,<br/>Your sort are not immune to legends nor tall<br/>     Tales, and you’ll tell of <em>this</em>. That was my goal:<br/>I’m stored in stories, though my details vary —<br/>A reliquary for the relic-wary.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>2/3/21. Loosely inspired by last night's dream (or what I remembered of it when my alarm went off). I woke with that last line in my ear and had to do *something* with it.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0024"><h2>24. "As moonlight shone across the tranquil deep..."</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>As moonlight shone across the tranquil deep,<br/>     The captain serenaded his insomnia,<br/>And wondered why it was he couldn’t sleep:<br/>     His upstart crew? Sir Joseph’s megalom’nia?<br/>(Forgive th’elision; that was rather cheap.)<br/>     His daughter’s wayward heart? ‘Tis said that <em>omnia</em><br/><em>Vincit amor</em> — but it’s a step too far<br/>To let a captain’s daughter wed a tar.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>2/11/21. Loose adaptation of Capt. Corcoran's song from the top of Act II in <i>HMS Pinafore</i>.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0025"><h2>25. "Impacted earwax is a sneaky bastard..."</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Impacted earwax is a <em>sneaky</em> bastard;<br/>     Today I had my ears cleaned. What a crowd<br/>Of little high-pitched frequencies are plastered<br/>     Across all things. Good grief, my hair is LOUD.<br/>And so’s the faucet. Not sure when I last heard<br/>     Such noise from lamps turned on. It’s like a shroud<br/>Was lifted. There’s the kettle — what a hiss!<br/>I ssspeak my esses exssstra long, like <em>thisss</em>.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>2/12/21.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0026"><h2>26. "Per Byron: 'flesh is formed of fiery dust'..."</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Per Byron: “flesh is formed of fiery dust”.*<br/>     (O scintillating spark of spontaneity!)<br/>And elsewhere, when a sim’lar theme’s discussed,<br/>     He talks of humans as “half dust, half deity”** —<br/>A lovely turn of phrasing, and I trust<br/>     ‘Tis true enough, though some may fail to see it. He<br/>Was onto something, though — so if you please:<br/>On meeting someone new, try not to sneeze?</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>2/19/21. *[<i>Don Juan</i>, 2/CCXII] **[<i>Manfred</i>, I.ii.301]</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0027"><h2>27. "A bridge upon a bluff beside the sea..."</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>A bridge upon a bluff beside the sea;<br/>     The ancient railing, rough beneath my hand,<br/>     Is weathered grayish wood. Incessantly,<br/>     Clouds race to the horizon’s edges and<br/>     Cast cryptic shadows on the glinting sand.<br/>     The sun and moon whirl recklessly through space,<br/>     Complete their arcs to start anew. I stand<br/>     And watch time pass at this exhausting pace —<br/>The wood beneath my hand seems all that’s fixed in place.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>2/26/21. Adapted from a dream.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0028"><h2>28. "The air is fresh, there’s something in the sunlight..."</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The air is fresh, there’s something in the sunlight<br/>     That wasn’t there a week ago. I wake<br/>To dappled walls; loose threads of finely-spun light<br/>     Keep catching on the woodgrain, shutters make<br/>A lattice of bright lines. The things that shun light<br/>     Are baffled by the glare, and forced to take<br/>Their leave (or maybe just a different form)<br/>As, bit by bit, the days grow long and warm.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>2/27/21.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0029"><h2>29. "Read this aloud. There is a tangled thread..."</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Read this aloud. There is a tangled thread<br/>     Among the rhymes here, something in the flow<br/>That’s <em>slightly</em> off. Insistently, I plead<br/>     Your patience — this can be resolved, somehow,<br/>I’m sure! There’s four lines yet! I(’ve?) often read<br/>     Of cases… yeah, no. Finish with a bow<br/>(Tied ribbon or a curtsy?). Well, sometimes<br/>That’s gotta do. At least this couplet rhymes.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>3/1/21.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0030"><h2>30. "My four-word foreword shall be, going forward..."</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“My four-word foreword shall be, going forward,<br/>     Considered the epitome of taste.”<br/>“I disagree…” “You really think one more word<br/>     Adds <em>anything?</em> I’m never one to waste<br/>A reader’s time.” “I’ve arguments galore, word<br/>     For word, I’ll state them. It is <em>not</em> misplaced<br/>To introduce, give context — better far<br/>A richly detailed tract!…” “Tl;dr.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>3/4/21.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0031"><h2>31. "Though there are many fruits that may be canned..."</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Though there are many fruits that may be canned,<br/>     Preserved, or put in pies, some really *can’t*:<br/><a href="https://www.today.com/food/photos-ghost-apples-are-going-viral-what-are-they-t148759">Ghost apples</a>, for example. If you’ve planned<br/>     On baking with this most elusive plant,<br/>Be warned: I’ve researched diligently, scanned<br/>     Some hundred codices — reports are scant<br/>Of recipes that work, or good advice<br/>To make them taste of ought but rot and ice.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>3/14/21.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0032"><h2>32. "Convey these lines posthaste to Ea-nasir:..."</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Convey these lines posthaste to <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Complaint_tablet_to_Ea-nasir">Ea-nasir</a>:<br/>     “Dear sir, these copper ingots aren’t quite right.<br/>I have discovered, to my great dismay, sir,<br/>     The quality is <em>terrible!</em> You blight,<br/>You fraudster, take them back; and don’t delay, sir,<br/>     To compensate my troubles, or I might<br/>Resort to harsher measures… I presume<br/>You get my gist. (This tablet’s out of room.)”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>3/15/21.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0033"><h2>33. "O maidens picking posies, have a care!..."</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>O maidens picking posies, have a care!<br/>     The first spring violet loses all its power<br/>When plucked — its beauties vanish into air,<br/>     Its freshness fades… In truth, the wooded bower<br/>Is quite bereft, and poets passing there<br/>     Will search in vain for that inspiring flower.<br/>(The first spring skunk cabbage stays where it’s at,<br/>But no-one wants to smear their soul with <em>that</em>.)</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>3/27/21. Inspired by <a href="https://yesterdaysprint.tumblr.com/post/646854484484636672/the-atchison-daily-globe-kansas-april-12-1904">this newspaper clipping</a>.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0034"><h2>34. "I saw the moon slip early off to bed..."</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I saw the moon slip early off to bed<br/>     Beyond the western hills — who’d blame or shame her?<br/>The long, dark night stretched on, stars overhead<br/>     Like spangles on rich velvet. (Brief disclaimer:<br/>Night would have worn a gauzy silk instead,<br/>     Had she not feared that we might all misname her<br/>As dawn.) A shawl twirled, graceful as you please,<br/>Glints of Orion and the Pleiades.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>4/3/21.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0035"><h2>35. "I’ve got so much in progress, if you saw me..."</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I’ve got so much in progress, if you saw me<br/>     You’d wonder at my process, not to mention all<br/>The chaos of my notes, stray threads that draw me<br/>     Down side paths that are sometimes unintentional.<br/>I feel like I’ve been doing origami<br/>     With paper that is twenty-five-dimensional.<br/>But I’ll make sense of all of this somehow,<br/>As best as messy data will allow.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>4/4/21.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0036"><h2>36. "A lull in conversation. 'Where has Sarah gone?'..."</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>A lull in conversation. “Where has Sarah gone?”<br/>     You ask, with a perplexed and prying tone.<br/>“To Aberdeen? Arkhangelsk? Anchang? Aragon?<br/>     (Or as they say in Spanish: <em>Aragón</em>.)<br/>Antarctica?… ooh, is that tuna tarragon?”<br/>     “It <em>is</em>.” And so her fate remains unknown<br/>For now: no question raised amidst hors d’œuvres<br/>Is given the attention it deserves.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>4/10/21.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0037"><h2>37. "Behold King Minos’ Labyrinth; within it, our..."</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Behold King Minos’ Labyrinth; within it, our<br/>     Great shame roams, terrible and nigh-unkillable.<br/>A lengthy tale; the words used to begin it are<br/>     Deceptively concise: a single syllable<br/>Can carry so much meaning. And the Minotaur,<br/>     For all his air of mystery, is still a bull<br/>In many ways. But no-one that you meet<br/>Will tell you that. In Crete, we are discreet.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>4/14/21.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0038"><h2>38. "On nights this clear, I find I much prefer..."</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>On nights this clear, I find I much prefer<br/>     To take a splash of moonlight in my tea —<br/>Pause briefly by the window as I stir<br/>     The lightly fragrant swirl of silver. See<br/>That shimmer in the steam! No connoisseur<br/>     Of leaves steeped late and long would disagree:<br/>Though thoughts on lunar cheese are bound to vary,<br/>The moon’s a decent substitute for dairy.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>4/22/21.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0039"><h2>39. "When classifying critters by description..."</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>When classifying critters by description,<br/>     It’s key to know the nature of your corpus:<br/>Drunk sailors’ tales? a stash of old Egyptian<br/>     Papyri on the many types of porpoise?<br/>Five hundred years of folklore? an inscription<br/>     On ancient limestone? Some things prove a more piss-<br/>Poor catalogue of what exists in nature —<br/>But lead to more exciting nomenclature.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>5/2/21.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0040"><h2>40. "I sure do love a trellis of wisteria..."</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“I sure do love a trellis of wisteria.”<br/>     “Listeria?” <em>“No!”</em> “Because I thought you said —”<br/>“That bunch of bluish blossoms. <em>Not</em> bacteria.”<br/>     “Ah no, I meant the mouthwash there instead.”<br/>“That’s <em>Listerine</em>, you nincompoop.” “I hear ya,<br/>     The two are too alike for my poor head…<br/>I had been rather hoping you would tell us<br/>Just what the stuff was doing on a trellis.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>5/7/21.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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